Active Reading
by JayRain
Summary: Theo can't help but find something alluring about Dorian deeply engrossed in a book, while in a public place. The twitch of his mustache, the gleam in his eyes, the hunch of his shoulders and the tension that begs to be massaged away... Completed for the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers' Group February Challenge.


**Note: Completed for the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers' Group February Challenge: choose two things from the list here: relationships/the-23-sexiest-things-you-do-without-even-knowing-it (gender doesn't matter) and write a one-shot of at least 1k words featuring your OTP. **

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_Active Reading  
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Dorian spent the entire night reading. That is the only explanation. The candle is burned to a stub, wax melted down the pewter stick and hardened in rivulets on the wooden table. He leans over the open book, propping his head up on his hand. His dark hair is a mess. He's been playing with it through the night, like he tends to do when he's nervous or anxious, and Theo has only seen him do it on very rare occasions.

What is Dorian reading? Theo wonders. What has kept him transfixed for hours? Theo cups the mug of tea in his hands, warming his fingers as the steam floats on the air like tiny ghosts. Dorian stares at the page and Theo leans against a shelf, just watching.

Dorian's long finger marks a place on the page, and he picks up a quill and scribbles something on the scraps of parchment next to the book. He takes the corner of the page between his thumb and forefinger and ever so careful lifts it and lets it fall gently before he starts reading again. It's early still, but there are some people in the library. Helisma directs her research assistants, many of whom are bleary-eyed at this early hour. When Dorian glances up, his gray eyes are still alert, though Theo can see the dark circles under them. Dorian catches sight of Theo and nods once.

Theo sits across from him and hands him the mug. Dorian takes it gratefully and sips, even though it's still quite hot. Little things like that don't seem to bother him; for all Theo knows, Dorian is casting a subtle cooling spell upon the mug even as he sips. Dorian does magic without even thinking. "You could have just come to sit with me," Dorian says at last, glancing up.

"I didn't want to disturb you," Theo says. "You looked so intent on what you were reading. I just liked watching for a moment."

"Well. It is a lovely view, I'll grant you that," Dorian says, running his hand through his hair and trying to flatten it into place.

His concern makes Theo smile. "You may as well just leave it alone," Theo says. "It's hopeless." Dorian pouts slightly and sips his tea. "I've seen it far worse," Theo murmurs. He reaches across the table and trails his fingers over Dorian's wrist. "Must be a good book; you didn't come to bed last night."

Dorian closes his eyes, savoring Theo's touch. When he opens them again he looks a bit abashed. "Lady Montilyet managed to acquire several volumes of Tevinter literature and lore. This one's the _Liberalum_. I started reading hoping to get some background on Corypheus in his human days, and then… I just couldn't stop," he says with a shrug. "I do apologize."

"For enjoying yourself?" Theo asks. "You _did_ enjoy reading, I assume?" Dorian nods. "Good. Because I enjoyed having the bed all to myself," he teases with a grin.

Dorian shakes his head and tries to appear haughty, but he's tired and Theo's smiles are infectious, so he just goes back to the book, though one hand rests on the table, palm up, inviting Theo's touch.

Theo slides his hand into Dorian's and tries to read as well; but the text is upside down in addition to being in Tevene, and he doesn't recognize any of the words. He's picked up a few Tevene words and phrases here and there, and he loves the surprised but happy look on Dorian's face when he utters the mage's native language. Dorian glances up. "This is a slightly older form of Tevene from what we speak and read in the Imperium currently," he explains. He launches into an animated, one-sided conversation about Tevinter history. Theo's heard a lot of it before, but he never minds hearing it again. Dorian's intelligence is astounding, and he could listen to him talk about Tevinter history, magical theory, Orlesian opera… for hours. Some days, when they have rare leisure time, he has.

Dorian's tea cools. He's back to reading, flipping pages slowly, reverently. More people wander through the library as time passes. Theo nods silent greetings to them; as the Inquisitor it is his duty to acknowledge those in his service, but Dorian never looks up.

The mage's brow furrows and he looks more closely at the page, as if physical proximity to the words will yield meaning. The tips of his mustache nearly quiver and his eyes widen. It's like watching a flower bloom in the morning sunlight. Theo's educated; he's a noble after all. He reads, he writes, he does what he needs to. But Dorian. Dorian would subsist on knowledge alone if he could.

And that is why Theo sits here in silence for an hour or more, just watching Dorian absorb the words, watching his face light up with each new clue, or his brow furrow with confusion on rare occasion. For Dorian, reading is far from passive, and he is fascinating to watch.

Theo's eyes trace the curve of Dorian's lips; the arch of his brow; the chiseled line of his nose; the hunch of his shoulders. Dorian must be tense after a long night of reading in a chilly library. Theo longs to massage the tension out of Dorian's neck and shoulders, feel his warm skin under his fingertips. Theo realizes he's leaning forward, his hand creeping toward Dorian's wrist. He's holding his breath. He touches Dorian.

The mage looks up sharply, irritated at first, but his features soften. "I must be boring you something fierce," he says apologetically. He takes a scrap of paper and marks his place in the book. Normally he just remembers what page he was on; this must be a complex tome indeed.

"I was just thinking how tense you must be," Theo says. He grips Dorian's hand lightly. "Come on." Dorian rises and casts a guilty glance at the book. Theo laughs. "Take the book."

The halls have come alive since Theo first came through them hours ago. He nods his greetings, shakes hands, smiles. All the while Dorian follows, holding the massive tome to his chest like a shield against the prying eyes and hushed whispers. Theo extricates himself and runs a hand through his hair, bobbing his head apologetically at Dorian, and gestures for him to follow.

Dorian follows Theo up to his quarters. The staff hasn't been up yet, and the bed is still a mess of blankets and sheets. Theo climbs into the middle of the blanket nest and waves Dorian over, book and all. Dorian sits in front of him, and Theo goes to work on Dorian's stiff neck and shoulder muscles, his hands, strong from pulling a heavy tension bow, kneading deep into Dorian's muscles. Dorian sighs and relaxes into Theo's touch.

Theo smiles; Dorian can be high strung sometimes, and when he's relaxed, Theo likes that best. "Are you going to keep reading?" he asks, half joking. He truly didn't intend to completely distract Dorian from his work. But when he has Dorian in his bed, practically purring with delight, it's hard to stop.

Dorian half-shrugs and opens the book, definitely not to the page he was on. The little slip of parchment slides out of the pages and is lost in the folds of the sheets. Theo's fingers work at the muscles of Dorian's neck; Dorian's shoulders slump and his grip on the book goes slack.

Suddenly Dorian starts, his pulse thudding beneath Theo's fingers and his breath coming in a sharp gasp. He blinks a couple of times and fumbles for the book. Theo reaches around and takes the tome; it's heavier than it looks. "I think you need to rest," Theo says with a smile, setting the book gently on the bedside table.

Dorian yawns. "You planned this," he accuses as he falls back against the pillows.

"Only partially," Theo admits. He reclines beside Dorian and wraps an arm around him; Dorian rolls over on his side and nestles up against Theo. "The book will be there when you wake," he says, when he notices Dorian's grey eyes looking longingly at the _Liberalum_. "And so will I." He takes Dorian's hand and kisses his fingertips, which are slightly smudged with ink.

Dorian runs his hand through his hair one more time, his nervous habit giving away how conflicted he feels. "Just rest," Theo whispers, kissing his forehead and holding him close. It's not long before Dorian's breathing deeply, his arm heavy across Theo's torso and his mouth open just slightly.

Even though Theo got a full night of sleep, he too drifts off into a world of soft darkness. The book will wait.


End file.
